decided to call me a traitor. You decided to tell your mother. You decided to post about me publicly. You decided to bring your mistress to our divorce meeting.”
“Stop calling her that.”
“Fine. Your pregnant girlfriend.”
He flinched.
Then I said the thing I’d finally understood.
“You don’t get to return because the story stopped being convenient.”
I closed the door.
PART 7 — THE DNA TEST
Months passed.
My belly grew.
The twins grew with it.
A boy and a girl.
Mateo and Elena.
I painted their nursery pale yellow.
My mother helped assemble the cribs.
My sister brought tiny blankets.
And for the first time since the pregnancy began, my home felt peaceful.
Diego attended none of the appointments.
Not because I prohibited him from every form of involvement, but because the situation was being handled carefully through attorneys and temporary arrangements.
He sent messages.
Some angry.
Some
